Gwendolyn Brooks On Kara Walker’s “Gone, An Historical Romance of Civil War As it Occurred B’tween the Dusky Thighs of a Young Negress and Her Heart” (3)
I like to think of my blackness as peeping through
raking white nostrils.
—O Miscreants! O Mackerels! O Foxtrot!
I like to think of my white companion waving his gun
in one of those black holes. Oh, save for that one imperfection,
kill that bird, that feather, that nip
—that cobra, that vulture, that mockingbird
My companion’s tatters bright as torches. I like to think I can eat my fill
then out of my stomach, pull a lemon and go home—
—save for that strobe, that gravelhoof, that ribbon-
snatch
My blackness proudly displaying rugged good humor, bouncing
good ideas, my boldly announcing daring. My withholding,
assigning, implementing,
—my attributes explaining
That every imperfection. That wrinkle and your petty vices
and maxims. Kill your crisps of many fops, kill your sour circuses,
kill your ballads. Save for your lamps
—and your moonlight, kill that.
a collaboration with Warpland, a Gwendolyn Brooks text generating neural network
Gwendolyn Brooks on Kara Walker’s “Tell Me your Thoughts on Police Brutality, Miss Spank Me Harder"
To think
of how
frightened
I’ve been
just getting
to my door
my mouth
a hardened
crazed tongue
my stomach
a broken biscuit
guess I’d
better not
offend you
again
To think
of all the times
I’ve begged
forgiveness
in the past
12 hours
for the body
of bones
that take
all my being
to mend
What if
they're guilty
and you're
innocent?
What if
they snap
your neck
and they're gone
before your
poor eyes
can close
upon them?
Now that
my confidence
in this acquaintance
game of guess
and guess
is broke
I intend to
take myself
to a level
of my own
design
a collaboration with Warpland, a Gwendolyn Brooks text generating neural network
